


The Better Part of Valor

by Rocky_T



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:30:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pike is called upon to mentor a troubled cadet. But will Kirk actually listen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Better Part of Valor

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Jen for her suggestion of a real name for "Cupcake."

Pike bit back a sigh as he gazed at the young cadet standing stiffly at attention before him. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Kirk."

Kirk relaxed and grinned, or attempted to. The expression on his bruised and battered face swiftly changed into a wince. "Sorry, sir, but you're the one who ordered me here to see you."

"I'm also the one who keeps walking in on you at the losing end of a fight," Pike countered. "What is this, the third time? And I'm not even counting last year, in that bar in Iowa. Kawalski and his pal Hammerstein—"

"You mean Ham and Dregs?"

"Great way to make friends and win people over," Pike shot back, not at all amused at the interruption, though he conceded privately the new moniker was probably a step up from referring to the burly cadet as "Cupcake." "As I was saying, the first time I had the pleasure of laying eyes on you, those cadets had just finished demonstrating their lack of approval of your manners. On your face. But as banged up as you were then, you've really topped yourself this time." He perused the padd in front of him. "Three broken ribs, sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder, twenty-eight stitches and oh, yeah, numerous contusions and abrasions. You got a death wish, Kirk?"

"No, sir." Kirk attempted another grin. "You should have seen the other guy."

"I have," Pike said, tossing the padd aside. "I wasn't being facetious, Kirk, when I asked if you had a death wish. I don't mean literally—though that's a definite possibility if you keep on tangling with someone like Kawalski who's twice your size. I mean 'death wish' as far as your Academy aspirations are concerned. How many demerits have you picked up for fighting? You're hovering perilously close to dismissal for cause."

Kirk looked bored. "Like that's going to happen."

Grimly, Pike held on to his temper. "Do you think you have some magic immunity, Kirk? You're two demerits short of the Commandant of Cadets kissing your ass goodbye!"

Kirk folded his arms defiantly across his chest. "Like I said, it's not going to happen."

"Don't count on me to save you, Kirk. Granted, I'm the one who brought you here in the first place, but I'm not going to stick my neck out for someone who clearly has doubts about whether he belongs."

Kirk's habitual cocky expression—which admittedly was usually somewhat subdued in the presence of the senior officers—resurfaced. " _You_ brought me? Sir," he added, almost as an afterthought. 

"I dared you to do better. Either way, you're here. But you're not my responsibility, not anymore."

Kirk leaned forward. "I thought I was here on my own merits."

Pike shrugged. "You scored high enough on the entrance exam to gain admission." No need to tell the young man—though he suspected Kirk was well aware—that the score was the third highest ever recorded. "Book learning was never your problem, Kirk—street smarts, on the other hand, is where you fall pretty short."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, answer me this, Kirk," Pike said. "Why do you suppose you and Kawalski keep on butting heads?"

"Maybe it's my boyish charm and winning personality?"

"Maybe it's your inability to keep your mouth shut. Seriously, Kirk, it doesn't take a genius to know when to stop provoking someone when all it's going to result in is you'll get your ass kicked."

"You certainly seem to be worrying a lot about my ass."

"Or your head handed to you, in thin slices. Same part of the anatomy, for all intents and purposes," Pike said flatly. "Come on, don't you ever think?"

"I think plenty. And Kawalski is a moron. Is it my fault he's such an easy target?"

"If you haven't learned by now not to target someone just because he's a fool, well, what exactly does that say about you?" Pike rose to his feet and planted his hands, palms down, on the desk top. "Yes, Kawalski's a fool, in some respects. But you're a bigger one because of the way you interact with him. It just shows how immature _you_ are. Casual insults are _not_ the best way to foster communication. Is this how you're going to aspire to one day be a leader, a captain of your own ship? Is this how you're going to inspire those serving under you?"

"I'm not—"

"I'm not finished yet, Kirk." Pike paused, to give what he was about to say greater weight. "You are no one special. Yes, you're bright. But so is everyone else in this institution. We don't call Starfleet 'the best and the brightest' simply because it's a catchy phrase. Every single other cadet in your year—and those above you as well—has the academic aptitude to attend the finest institutions of higher learning in the quadrant, if not the whole damn galaxy."

Kirk was clearly seething, but to his credit managed to stay calm. "Fine, I get it. But I thought you said that my father—"

"Your father was a Starfleet officer. Which makes you a legacy. But there's a whole bunch of legacies walking around here. Starfleet—in some form or other—has been around for more than a century. It even predates the Federation. Every single person in San Francisco, practically, has some 'Fleet connection, a father or aunt or brother who's served. Hell, we've got third generation officers!" Pike took a deep breath and sat down once more, hating what he was about to do but knowing it was necessary. "You think you can lay claim to an exalted lineage? Your father was a tactical officer. A lieutenant. Nothing to be ashamed of, but no great shakes either. The first officer of the Kelvin was laid up in the infirmary with a bad case of Rigellian fever, which is why Captain Robau gave your father the conn when he took a shuttle to meet that Romulan captain. Your father was charged with staving off the attack long enough for the escape pods to get away. He was supposed to set the auto-pilot and escape as well, but there had been too much damage to the ship's systems. He had to do it manually, and so he gave up his life to save over 800 others." Pike stared directly into Kirk's eyes. "That makes him a hero. But it doesn't make his son anything but a fool if he thinks he can trade in on that reputation."

Kirk bristled. "I never said I was trying to cash in on his name. I plan on getting where I'm going—and that's to the top—by my own efforts."

"Then it's about time you started acting like that, Kirk, instead of a damn jackass. Do you have any friends? Besides Leonard McCoy, I mean. And the half dozen female cadets you’re screwing at any given time. Anybody who actually likes you?"

"Norv Janeway."

Pike smiled sardonically. "Janeway is your roommate. Assigned by the department, I should add. Have you ever exchanged more than a few words with him?"

Kirk shrugged. "What do I have in common with a nerdy astrophysics major who spends all his time in the lab anyway?"

"What do you have in common with anyone here, Kirk?" Pike said heatedly. "Has it occurred to you that maybe nobody likes you because of the way you waltz around with that smug expression on your face, that goddamned arrogance just dripping off you. You act as if you're so superior, but from what cause? What have you personally done with your life so far that warrants everyone dropping and worshiping the ground you walk on? Don't just tell everyone how awesome you are and expect them to bask in your glory. Do something that shows you deserve it!"

Unexpectedly, Kirk smiled. "I suppose this is where you tell me there's never been a cadet who's caused so much trouble before."

"There's that ego of yours again, Kirk. Actually, off the top of my head I can come up with a couple who easily matched any antics you've come up with so far. Mitchell and Finnegan, for example…they graduated a few years ago. Come to think of it, if you'd started the Academy when you were supposed to, you'd have been in the same year, maybe a year behind." Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't, Pike thought to himself. "My point is, you're not so special, Kirk. Not yet. And you're certainly not going to get anywhere by proclaiming what a special little snowflake you are without some cold hard facts to back you up."

"I thought you said I had potential."

"Everybody's got potential. Potential's cheap. It's what you do to realize it that makes a difference."

Silence fell. Pike hoped Kirk was really considering what had been said.

"Am I really going to get kicked out?" Kirk said at last.

"That's Admiral Burton's problem, not mine. As Commandant of the Corps of Cadets, it's his responsibility. But he's got to look at things like cohesion of the corps and make a decision for the good of the many." Pike softened his stance, satisfied he'd finally gotten through to the young man. "If you're asking me, can you still salvage something out of this mess? Yes, I think so, if you're willing to buckle down and grow up for a change."

"Stop teasing the zoo animals."

Pike gave him a look. "For starters, I’d think about expressing that sentiment a bit differently."

"All right, all right," Kirk sighed. "Anything else?"

"Discretion is the better part of valor. You might want to start exercising a little of that. Stop picking fights. Stop looking down on people. Try getting to know them, make some genuine friends. Play nicely with others."

"Got it." Kirk suddenly grinned. "By the way, did you know that I signed up to take the Kobayashi Maru test?"

As if the news of a first year cadet even attempting to take the fabled senior exam—no one had ever passed, nor would be likely to—hadn't already made the rounds of the campus. "Good luck, you'll need it." 

"Thanks." If Kirk was disappointed by Pike's reaction, he didn't show it.

Pike rose once more, preparatory to showing the cadet to the door. "And last but not least, you might want to invest in some personal combat training. It's a damn shame the way you keep getting your ass kicked in a fight."

Kirk got up as well. "Got any advice for me there, too?"

"Just one," Pike said solemnly. "Flying leg kicks."


End file.
